


Let My Life Be Worth Your While

by paperpenpal



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff, Goddess Tower (Fire Emblem), Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperpenpal/pseuds/paperpenpal
Summary: In the Goddess Tower after the war, Dorothea contemplates her future.  Ingrid contemplates it too.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	Let My Life Be Worth Your While

**Author's Note:**

  * For [English_frog45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/English_frog45/gifts).



> We wanted some more soft Dorothea so I wrote it.
> 
> Title is from a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_iQN672qtvY) that I was listening to right before writing but doesn't really have that much to do with the fic.

In the aftermath of the fall of Enbarr, Dorothea has nowhere else to go other than to return with the army to the Monastery. She is now a citizen of a united Fodlan, a Fodlan under a Kingdom banner.

Does she regret the side she has chosen? She thinks about that often but tries not to. Her choices have been made, her world continues to spin, she is alive when some of her friends aren’t.

She hopes she has managed to save someone in all this, even when she couldn’t save Hubert or Edelgard. 

But Ferdinand lives, Caspar lives, Bernadetta lives, as do Linhardt and Petra. That will have to be enough.

The former Black Eagles have returned to old Empire territory. Maybe they can put it back together.

Dorothea though, is a songstress with nowhere to go and a world of fighting she wishes to leave behind. She is tired. When she chased Manuela to the Academy, she never would have imagined her life like this, fighting in the frontlines of war, fighting to restore order in a world that was so undeniably broken, and she would know broken more than most.

She does not regret her choice to fight, she regrets war and the way it makes choices for her. She could have run away, hid somewhere and waited for a new government or order, but she had been too embroiled in the politics at that point simply by living alongside those who were political. 

Her friends mean the world to her. She would have never thought that she would be so close to so many nobles but now, Dorothea cannot imagine a life without them. It is funny how far and how different her life had become simply by chance.

She finds herself in the Goddess Tower. The daylight shines brighter with a promise of a new tomorrow, a tomorrow that stretches wide and far in a way that she cannot see yet. Perhaps she just needs a little more time.

Quietly and almost underneath her breath, in a low hum that echoes in the stone chamber, Dorothea sings some old forgotten melody with no words. It is simply just what comes to her. It is light and freeing and she wonders when the last time she sung was. Was it perhaps as she held a dying hand in a last act of desperate comfort? Was it before that? In a dormitory room laughing with her girls? 

Someone stomps up the steps behind her, boots heavy as they climb, almost as if they are purposefully making noise so as to not startle the war veterans.

Dorothea turns from where she looks out on the balcony and sees Ingrid appear at the stairwell. She is still in armor for some reason, perhaps she had been training, although there are no weapons on her person. She has a small tired smile on her face, one that screams of relief, as if finally finding what she was looking for. 

It is not all too surprising to see her here. Most of the Kingdom natives have returned to the Monastery too, resting before they make their way back to the capital or wherever they need to go.

“That was pretty,” Ingrid smiles, “What is it?”

“Oh just something old and silly,” Dorothea says, waving it away, “Not that it isn’t lovely to see you, but what brings you here Ingrid?”

“I was looking for you actually,” Ingrid says as she approaches, settling in next to Dorothea, “Someone said I might find you here. Everything okay?”

Dorothea bites her lip, her instinct to lie or dismiss dies at the sight of Ingrid’s open tired concern. The knight stands tall, as always, with one hand resting lightly on the rail, her attention fully on Dorothea. 

“I think so,” Dorothea says with a tired sigh, turning back out into the balcony. Beside her, Ingrid shifts too, mirroring her. “I’m just thinking about the future.”

“Anything in particular?” 

“Just what I am to do now,” Dorothea admits, “I never really thought this far.”

“Well,” Ingrid says, steady and comforting. Dorothea has always admired this about Ingrid, admired the way she never wavers, especially in acts of kindness. “What is it you want to do?”

Dorothea doesn’t know if it is Ingrid, the exhaustion of war, or a combination of both that makes her drop her pretenses, that makes her open and entirely honest with the way she’s been worn. She knows that, as the war continued on, her ability to hide the way it affects her has weakened but she wonders if maybe, it is perhaps because she does not want to anymore. There is nothing to hide, especially not with Ingrid.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Dorothea says, she feels the way her hands come together and how she begins to wrangle her fingers as she glances down at them. “I could go back to Enbarr, I suppose but I’m not sure I can right now. The city…well, to be honest, it was never particularly kind to me. The opera yes, but the city?" Dorothea shakes her head, "Besides in its state at the moment, I’m not entirely sure there is a lot for me to return to. I could help restore it like the others but I’m not sure I can right now. I know that sounds selfish-”

“It doesn’t,” Ingrid interrupts sharply, turning to face her. Dorothea keeps her gaze on her hands. “Dorothea,” Ingrid continues, “You’ve done a lot, you’ve done more than anyone could - _should_ have asked you to.”

It’s hard to believe coming from Ingrid. Ingrid who has a righteousness and a duty that she holds so strongly to her person. Ingrid who must be just as exhausted from war and yet still plans to continue after it. It is one of the many reasons why Dorothea admires her, it is also one of the many reasons why Dorothea loves her. 

But Dorothea is not Ingrid and Ingrid is kind and will always think the world of her friends even when they don’t share her same level of conviction. 

“What will you do?” Dorothea asks instead, turning to face her friend and dropping her hands at her sides.

Ingrid hesitates for a second before smiling, “Dimitri asked me to follow him.”

Something catches in Dorothea’s throat. She’s not sure what it is. She cannot tell if it is disappointment or joy, but she has always been a phenomenal actress so she pushes for joy. “That’s great Ingrid!” She grins, “You’ve finally done it. You’ve achieved your dream!”

Confusingly, Ingrid’s smile drops but only a slight bit, it is subtle but Dorothea catches it. “Yes, well - we’ll leave for Fhirdiad by the end of the week.”

Dorothea’s smile is genuine, even if something sad tugs at her soul. “I’m happy for you Ingrid.” She says softly.

She can’t help it, she pulls Ingrid in for a hug and ignores the way the armor pinches at her dress. Ingrid returns it easily, arms wrapping around her and for a moment, it is just that. It is just the embrace of each other, the warmth from the way the sun filters in through the Goddess Tower, and onto her golden hair and the way Ingrid’s head fits into her shoulder.

Perhaps she is imaging it but it doesn’t seem like Ingrid wants to let go either.

It could be a long time before they next see each other after all. Dorothea has no idea what happens next, what she knows is she wants to hold onto Ingrid a little longer, hold onto the way the woman fills her heart with something she has only ever felt once for someone else, a long long time ago. 

The thought of leaving Ingrid hurts, the thought of Ingrid leaving her hurts more. She holds onto her a little tighter.

“You could come with me…” Ingrid says when they part. They don’t step too far away from each other, their shoes are nearly touching. Dorothea wonders at that, wonders at their closeness, wonders at the way Ingrid’s head drops down and hands twist. It is not like her. 

“And be a knight?” Dorothea says quietly, a hint of a smile on her face, she tries to coax Ingrid’s eyes back up with just the sound of her voice, with the teasing tone she puts on, “Hah, I think that I’m done with fighting.”

Ingrid flushes a curious color, “Um, actually,” she says, clearing her throat before looking up, looking straight into Dorothea’s eyes, “I was thinking more along the lines of a wife.”

The breath leaves Dorothea’s lungs, as does everything else. Her heartbeat drums faster than any tempo she’s ever had to keep up with and, for the first time in a very long time, Dorothea is struck speechless, eyes wide and staring at the other woman.

Ingrid’s eyes glance away, “Or not,” she sighs, “That’s okay too. I understand not wanting-”

“Ingrid dear,” Dorothea says, still a little breathless, letting her hands settle on Ingrid’s own from where they twist, “Are you proposing to me?”

“I-” Ingrid says, face still flushed and red, but then she steels herself, her shoulders broad and wide as she stares straight back into Dorothea’s. “Yes.” 

Dorothea’s hands come slowly up to rest on Ingrid’s cheeks. Her eyes staring into Ingrid’s bright green ones. There is a broad grin on her own face that she cannot control and Ingrid stares back warmly, something shimmering beyond them. 

For all that Ingrid is, strong, noble, beautiful, brave, she is still just a girl, offering her heart.

Dorothea is not sure if the “yes” she’s about to say makes it out because she’s leaning forward instead, catching Ingrid’s lips with her own.

At first, Ingrid is stock-still- petrified, Dorothea would guess, but then she sighs into it, shoulders relaxing. Her hands come to rest lightly, nervously, on Dorothea’s waist and her chapped lips move slowly, carefully against hers. It is the sweetest kiss Dorothea has ever had. It is a nervous kiss, chaste and yet somehow still firm. It is very much like Ingrid to be nervous in this way after such a loud and firm declaration. 

Dorothea can’t help but smile against her. When she pulls back, she thinks they are both flushed but Ingrid’s hands don’t move. They stay where they are and, if anything, they become more confident, curling into Dorothea’s sides.

Dorothea closes her eyes, lets the warm slow moving joy move through her, then leans back down towards Ingrid but before she can kiss her again, Ingrid’s voice dances in her ear.

“Is that a yes?”

“To a future with you, dear?" She whispers on her lips "That's an absolutely.” 


End file.
